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Thank You!

I have taken some time to come to a major realization. No, I haven’t given up on my writing. No, I’m not gonna stop blogging. Nope, what I realized is I have been horrible. Yep, it’s true. Amanda’s Blog is three months old next Tuesday. Horrible me hasn’t done something in all that time.

I have not said “THANK YOU!” Yes, that is in caps because I am shouting. I figure everyone has to hear me from my computer, so I had better shout. These last three months have been filled with ups and a lot of downs, but you guys who read this have given me a lot of confidence. Thank you so much, y’all! I really do appreciate you reading my blog and all of the comments.

Thanks Again,

Amanda Nicole

PS: Just so everyone doesn’t think poor Alexandria winds up as Hans’ mistress, I’ve included the introduction of Hans in the book below. It’s a bit long, but let me know what y’all think. And check out the website (http://www.amandanicoletrisdale.com/sweetsixteen.html) for the full first chapter.

Hans Zeidrich tried not to look as nervous as he felt. She was arriving today. Hans had spent a good deal of time looking for this one. Her background was a lie. He had known that, but the extent of the lie shocked him. Twenty-two! She was only sixteen. Granted, she had already graduated with her doctorates degree. But she was sixteen, and was going to be in the house on her sixteenth birthday. If Hans had his way, she would never leave the Main House again. She would grow old and gray happily spending her days in her suite, never thinking about boys or men.

‘Like that’s going to happen.’ Hans smiled as he chided himself. ‘She’s going to leave someday. All you can hope for is that she’ll marry a man that’s worthy of her. Not like that’s going to happen, but you can hope. Besides, do you really want her living her entire life in this house? No, you don’t. Okay, yes, you do. But Pa let you spread your wings. You’ll let her do the exact same thing. I wonder what she looks like. Is she tall? They said her eyes were blue-green. Are they still that shade of Houston blue-green? Pa’s eyes were distinct, as were Margie’s eyes. Hers used to be the same shade. Everyone called it Houston Eyes. Then again, people used to comment on Zeidrich Eyes when the boys were alive.’ The sound of vehicles driving up caused Hans to stop thinking about the girl. She was there, finally.

The car stopped, and Alexandria got out. Looking at the porch, she felt her nerves getting the best of her. There was Hans Zeidrich. He stood straight making his height obvious. Like his son, Hans was wearing a short sleeved tan shirt and khakis, with an armband. His hair was a bit longer than Peter’s, and was no longer pure blonde. Specks of gray had begun to sprout in his hair. Hans still had a full head of hair. Those eyes were a deep blue color, a trait he had passed on to all of his biological children. If Alexandria hadn’t been nervous about what her job would be, she would have admitted the 54 year old man was quite handsome still.

For a moment Hans just stood there, taking her in. ‘She is taller than I had imagined. I know the file said she was tall, but she’s taller than Margie was. And those eyes… They’re a unique color of blue-green. Those are still the Houston eyes. But that fear… I had hoped to go my entire life without seeing fear in those eyes.’ He quickly took in everything he could about Alexandria’s physical features.

Alexandria tried not to cry. ‘He always tried to protect me, even though there was no reason he had to. Can I go through with this? Can I be his mistress?’

Hans tried not to look imposing as he walked down the steps. There had been a time when he hadn’t worried about looking imposing to her. She used to think he was just a big teddy bear. Now, the government was asking her to do something no woman should ever be asked to do, sleep with the man she called grandfather. “You look more beautiful in person, Margaret. Or do you prefer something else?” Hans asked, knowing the teen hated her blood mother’s name. Margie Houston had never been a mother. Margie had left Alexandria with Carl Houston, Margie’s grandfather, the day Alexandria was born. Houston had named his great-granddaughter after her mother and great-grandmother before asking Hans’ third eldest son to raise Margaret Alexandria Houston.

“Margaret is fine.” Alexandria responded as flippantly as she could manage. ‘I hate that name with a passion.’ She thought to herself. ‘Why Gramps named me after that woman is well beyond me! I barely remember her.’

Hans wanted to touch Alexandria, but he knew he had to be cautious. The older man didn’t want to scare her. He certainly needed to come up with a way to tell the teen she wasn’t gracing his bed. “How was your month at the retreat?”

“Fine,” she kept trying to be nonchalant.

Smiling, Hans looked over at his son. “Have Miss Margaret’s belongings sent to the room beside yours.”

“She brought only the bag she carries.” Peter was confused with the placement. No other whore had been placed in the family wing. They lived together in a house on the compound.

Turning back to Alexandria, Hans raised an eyebrow. “No girl can live with so little. I will have one of the wives take you in to town.” He tried to remember that she had been a foster child. No family would have let her have that many possessions.

“I don’t need anything.” Alexandria said flippantly. All she wanted from this man was for him to recognize who she was. She needed Hans to recognize her.

“Let me show you your room.” Hans put a hand on the girl’s back. ‘Oh Lord, does this feel good. I haven’t touched her since she was thirteen.’ Hans thought as he guided her up to the porch. “This is your home, now. I want you to feel as though it belongs to you just as much as it belongs to Peter or to me.”

“Whatever,” Alexandria was beginning to fear the upcoming encounter. It was becoming harder to act as though she didn’t care.

“I didn’t decorate your room. I thought perhaps you might want to.” Hans said as he guided her in to a large room.

“Yeah, it is,” Hans smiled at her obvious shock. He wanted to be able to surprise and please the girl. There was so much Hans had to make up for. “If you don’t like the furniture, we can always get you something different.”

“And your room?” Alexandria asked.

Looking at her, Hans shook his head. “All you need to know is that it is in this wing. You won’t be coming to my room. This will be the last time I will be in your rooms.”

“I’m confused.” She said what she actually felt.

Hans sighed deeply as he decided to be truthful with the girl. “I’ve had eight children. Only Peter is here now. Five of my boys gave their life for their race. My precious Heidi was taken from me at too young of an age. She had leukemia. My granddaughter is your age, my precious Alexandria.”

“I am sorry.” Alexandria had forgotten that there had ever been a Heidi. Heidi had died when Heidi was three. Alexandria had not even turned one when it happened.

“Heidi would have been eighteen, two years older than you are.” Hans’ blue eyes looked straight in to the agent’s eyes. The fact that Heidi and Alexandria were close in age had been one of the reasons Hans had for Alexandria calling him “Pops”, just like his children. “I looked in to you, and found that you lied about your age.” It was a lie. Hans had gone searching for the agent. He had made sure to bring her in to the compound as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. There was no way his granddaughter was spying on anyone else. They might kill the agent. No, Hans felt the best way to protect his granddaughter was to bring her home to spy on him.

Alexandria looked away, wondering what else the man knew about her. She wondered if he knew who she really was. “What am I doing here, then?”

“I want to take care of you, as though you were my ward.” Hans said gently. “Someone has to take care of you.”

The anger of the years of taking care of herself without anyone to lean on bubbled to the surface. “I can look after myself.”

Knowing he was treading in a dangerous area, Hans proceeded cautiously. “I know you have taken care of yourself for years, but a sixteen year old girl should be more concerned about makeup and boys than life and death. Let us give you a chance to be a teen once more.”

“I’ll do what you tell me to do, but I’m not a child anymore.” Alexandria snapped irately.

The Leader of the Texas Aryan Nation managed to hide his smile. Her outburst was just like a teenager. That was what Hans wanted to see from the teen. “Supper will be at 7:00, sharp. Since it is the Fourth of July we are having a picnic with the entire organization. I’ll come by beforehand to escort you to the picnic area.”

“Yes, sir,” Alexandria said.

“I shall see you then.” Hans left the room. He motioned for Peter to come closer. “Post a lieutenant outside the door. I don’t want anyone disturbing Margaret.”

“When do you want her to report to your rooms?” Peter asked his father.

The younger man was shocked at the anger in his father’s blue eyes. “Never!” Hans said in a soft, yet deadly voice. “Margaret is our guest, but she will service no one. We do not like our women that young.”

“Twenty-two isn’t young. A lot of girls get married about that age.” Peter said as though his father hadn’t looked at all the facts.

Taking a deep breath to control his anger, Hans looked at Peter and Otto Walsenburg. Otto was almost like a son to Hans. Hans’ older sons had even called Otto “brother”. These were the two men who Hans could see recognizing Alexandria. “That girl is a child. It is her sixteenth birthday today. Margaret is under my protection. If I see her so much as look like one of the men has insulted her or has designs on her I will kill the man.”

“Yes, sir!” Otto snapped to attention. He wondered if Hans had seen what he had seen. ‘Those Houston Eyes are noticeable a mile away. That girl is his granddaughter. He has every right to be protective. And I highly doubt Peter would have said what he just said if he knew it was Lexi in the suite. But Hans has to recognize her. She looks just like her grandmother.’

“Sixteen?” Peter stuttered in pure shock. “She’s sixteen?”

Hans looked at the door. “Margaret’s life story is something that should never happen to a child. Her father abused her. Her mother was murdered in front of her. And she saw her two foster parents murdered.”

For a moment Peter thought of Alexandria. He hadn’t heard from her in a while. The man was protective of his niece. He knew that he would want someone protecting Alexandria, so for her he would protect this agent. “She’ll be safe, Pops.”

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3 thoughts on “Thank You!”

You’re so brave putting an excerpt of your novel on line. So your character’s name is Margaret and she hates that name. Ha. I like your story so far. Interesting how the point of view changes within the same scene. Supposedly a no-no, but it seems to work. Keep up the good work. My site is also about my journey to publication, though I spend most of my time talking about other things. Maybe I can learn some lessons from you.

Well, I figured since it has the poor man’s copyright I should be okay posting the excerpt. Oh, and her main problem about her name is it was her mother’s name. Later on it comes to light why she hates her mother/her mother’s name. I’m not saying “Margaret” is a bad name.
I hate rules when they get in the way of my story telling. If I could figure out a way to not have to query agents, I’d break that rule, too 🙂
Thanks for the kind words about the blog. I wouldn’t take any lessons from me. I’m still really new at this whole blogging thing.